


Roaring Fires and Warring Hearts

by losechesters



Series: LondonVerse [2]
Category: Marvel (Movies), Thor - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-11-22
Updated: 2012-11-21
Packaged: 2017-11-19 05:59:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/569961
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/losechesters/pseuds/losechesters
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Thor sends Sif on an observation mission to Midgard. Loki is sent as a companion, and neither are all too happy about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Roaring Fires and Warring Hearts

NEW YORK  
2015, SPRINGTIME

 

The journey between the realms was not a long one, though Sif had only been to Midgard a handful of times. She thought to herself that if one was ever to see a beautiful place, this would be it. A field in what they would later learn to be 'upstate' New York (only after Sif would not stop her incessant questioning), with fresh air, grass gently waving with the breeze, a hint of clouds in the pale blue sky. Sif looked up at it, and noted how it had looked different. The last time she was here, she had not taken in such things. She had wanted to find her friend before more damage had been done to Asgard. But this was entirely different. She had time now, to look at every detail.

Such as the cars sitting upon a hill. There were men standing next to them, dressed in mostly black, with objects covering their eyes.

“Right,” she whispered to herself. She then looked over at Loki and smirked.

His hair, no longer it’s shouldered length, was close to his head and no longer as dark as the depths of the universe. As he looked over to her she could see his frown. “We shall see how you like having your appearance so drastically tampered with against your will.” She snickered before walking towards the men.

Phil Coulson had been in touch with Thor, and he had agreed to be Sif’s handler. After the helicarrier incident, he had been kept behind the scenes for the most part. On the upside, it kept him alive, but he, as well as anyone else that had ever met him, knew that he was better suited in the field.  
He stood tall, confident. Sif had vaguely remembered him, but knew from the tales Thor told, that the sheildmate had meant a great deal to him. She bowed her head to the agents, and noted out the corner of her eye the scowl upon Loki’s face. He was clearly not pleased. Neither was she, having to be with him. So she figured it was only fair.

“Lady Sif,” Coulson said, removing his darkened spectacles. “Welcome back to Earth. We will take you to Headquarters for briefing.”

She nodded and followed him to one of the cars, grinning to herself over Coulson’s blatant ignorance to Loki’s presence. So she was not completely alone, it appeared.

As she sat in the car, she thought to herself of how comfortable the seats were. She would have to ask of their craft, and where she may find one for purchase.

As they made their way through the calm streets of little New York town, she could feel the trickster’s gaze lingering upon her. After it would not cease, she looked toward him.

“Is there something of importance you wish to tell me?” she asked, leaning her elbow on the slight lip of the door near the window.

“How long do you intend to ingore me? Ignore my existance? We are here for Fates know how long, and you are acting like a child. Blatantly ignoring me, as if I were little more than dirt upon your trousers.”

She glared at him. “You have no claim on when or if I shall speak to you. You have no right to order me about, and the quicker you learn that, the sooner I may be at peace.”

Loki shook his head and lay back in his seat, closing his eyes. Clearly she was just as stubborn as she had always been. There would be no peace between them, that much was clear. There would only be silence. He ran a hand through his hair, and could feel its difference. Not just in length, but texture as well. It had curl to it. And she had mentioned that it was no longer raven hued. Fantastic. He was, by default, a vain man. He had prided himself on his appearance for centuries and now this? Well, at least he wasn’t blue, with ridges littering his entire being. Thor had some decency in that regard. However, he had a feeling that his brother's mercy was conditional; that if he screwed this up for them, Thor would have no qualms of returning him to his Jotun form

****

The lights were what Sif remembered most. The smells she could do without, but the lights reminded her of stars. So many of them. She stepped out of the car after it came to a stop in front of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters and felt every bit the term ‘tourist’ that Thor had told her of. She closed the door to the car, and looked over at Loki, who seemed a bit unimpressed with everything. Perhaps that had to do with his last endeavor here.   
In a way, it reminded her of Asgard, with it’s skyline stretching heavenward, and the crowds people on the street, paying little attention to them as they went about their daily business. She made her way through them at the rear of the pack, and stopped in front of the moving door. She stepped forward, but then shook her head. It would surely split her in half, would it not?

Loki rolled his eyes as he watched her before stepping into it, following the agents inside. He gave her a look from the other side that asked what she were waiting for, and it was then that she shuffled inside as quickly as she could, feeling one of the handles at the small of her back. Once through, she stumbled out just as quickly. Could there not be an easier way to enter a building?

He shook his head at her stupidity. There she was, a warrior of Asgard, and she cowered in front of a door? He would never understand women.  
The agents led them through the corridors, and into an elevator. Sif had read about these in books. About how they were much preferred over stairs. She looked up above the door as different markings lit up as they ascended. Numbers. Floor numbers specifically, she suspected. She had put herself as far back into a corner as possible, holding onto the supports screwed into the wall. She looked around to take in the agents, all in black coats and trousers, with their black shoes shining. Most likely, this was their requirement. The men had hair cut close to their heads and the women wore their hair perfectly styled, wether it was swept up from their necks as she preferred, or had it hanging around their shoulders, but pinned back from their faces. There was not a hair out of place, she did not think.

At the chime to signify that they were at their journey’s end, they all shuffled out. She looked at Loki, and thought that perhaps he had seen much of this treatment. Men surrounding him, escorting him as if they did not trust him. And in a sense it was a good plan. He was the liesmith. The trickster. He was a clever man, and with everything he had learned the past few years, they had reason to be on edge.

Though she had to admit that Thor had done well to bring him back from darkness. He still lingered on the cliff, but he was not yet ready to fall again she did not think. At least here, this time, he was stripped of his magic. He would not have the ability to do as he pleased, from replicating himself, to disappearing, or to even turn an entire city to iced cream. Though she had not the slightest idea of what iced cream could be. Perhaps it was a Jotun thing.

They were ushered into a council room, from the looks of it, where they were told to wait for Coulson. He would be their handler for the duration. So Sif took the time to look around the room. To become acclimated with her surroundings. There was a long, dark table in the center with S.H.I.E.L.D.’s sigil carved into it, with chairs lining either side and at both ends. There was a wall with screens, monitoring people. Visible files of their operatives. She noted some. Natasha Romanoff, in Tailand with a small note that she was accompanied by Clint Barton. And then there was Tony Stark, the Man of Iron that was in California at the moment. Thor had his own file in the top lefthand corner, without a flashing beacon, with an indication that he was not on this world at the moment. Out of the corner of her eye, she had noted the floor to ceiling windows that overlooked the city. In the distance she could see what was Stark Tower, from the stories Thor had regaled to them. Loki’s destruction could barely be seen, but perhaps it was because she had not witnessed it with her own eyes. She stepped over to them, her hands crossed over her chest as she looked out towards the city below. There were so many people, so many of those horseless vehicles lining the streets, that she now thought that Asgard had almost seemed quite uninhabited in comparison.

Loki on the other hand, took seat at one of the ends of the table. He had seemed generally disinterested in the whole situation. He didn’t seem to care about what was going on, and that he had just made himsef comfortable, feet propped up onto the table, hands linked behind his head.  
She turned to look at him, tearing her attention away from the landscape that surrounded them. “Well don’t you look right at home,” she all but sneered.  
Loki raised an eyebrow in her direction. He watched as she sunk into a chair a few feet away. “Should I not be?” he questioned. He was still finding it amusing that some Midgardian city was giving her pause.

She rolled her eyes. “Loki, no matter how good you may think you are, I can still tell that you are not pleased that your brother appointed this mission to us. Or to you, with me as your charge, as it were.”

“Thor is not my brother,” Loki grit through his teeth, quick to correct her. He had been continually adamant about that fact, despite how Thor had tried to get him to see things differently. They may not have been related by blood, but the Loki was still his brother by heart. At least, to the Thunderer he was.

Loki had been different upon his return. He had been under strict watch, and Odin had stripped him of his magic (before he had fallen into yet another Odinsleep. Frigga had sat by his side just as she had every time before, and had no choice but to appoint Thor as King), and while it had been quite satisfying to watch him in the beginning, there was a lingering sadness lying behind his eyes. Was he sorry for his actions? And for that matter, was he even capable of feeling remorse? One could never truly know.

Sif sighed, resting her elbows on the table when the Son of Coul came into the room. She could sense how uncomfortable he made Loki. His shoulders tensed, he changed position, avoided eye contact; the list continued, but she tore her gaze away from him when there was an envelope placed in front of her.

She opened it carefully, and noted that there was an image attatched to what she would later learn was a “personnel file”. How had they aquired this? She had not approved such a thing. She then read through the first page. There was information about the Destroyer, and various other bits of information that only Thor would have knowledge of. ‘Not hostile unless engaged in combat. Do not approach unless given explicit orders? What was she, an animal? She turned the page, and it was her instructions. At least for the next year, by the looks of it.

It had a name she would be given, her supposed date of birth, things she would need to commit to memory. Her occupation caught her eye. She had once been a female fighter, a warrior, when she had sustained an injury that took her out of comission for good. And now she was a self defense instructor. Not entirely impossible. At least she could fight in some manner.

The two of them would be living in a London townhouse, under the guise of a successful couple. Not married, but -

“Hold on!” she cried out. “I am to pretend to be in love with him?!” she exclaimed, pointing her finger in Loki’s direction. It was impossible, preposterous!

“Oh come now, Lady Sif. Tis not all that bad.” Loki piped up with a smirk.

“You shaved my hair from my head! Who is to say that you would not do so again?” she shouted, standing quickly, as if offended.

“Petty childhood tricks. I have grown since then.”

“Oh yes. Grown enough that you thought attempting to kill the Son of Coul was an option?” she shot back.

“Enough, the both of you!”

They both turned to look at the Agent, and Sif inwardly growled. She was already regretting this decision. How could she agree to such a thing? Being in love with a monster such as Loki, even if pretending?

“This is not a mission where you will require weapons. This is observation only. You will write up reports every couple of weeks to track your progress so it is highly advised that you take detailed notes in between.” Coulson explained, and passed another file towards Loki, his a bit thicker than Sif’s had been. “You will be flown into London by us, arriving tomorrow night, and from there I will have further instruction. If you will follow me, you are required to have identification, before beng shown to your bunks for the time being.”

Loki stood, letting Sif lead the way out. No need to upset the warrior more. He may like to jest, but he was no fool. He knew that she could have his head on a platter in an instant, weapons or not.

Shortly they were led to a room with what Loki recognized as computers and cameras. He doubted Sif had even taken notice the last time she had been to the realm, her thoughts consumed with her precious Thor.

They had a shirt they wished him to wear for this. Apparently he was to be their monkey, and this was how they dressed. It mirrored the agents’ shirts, only this was black. He made a quick change of himself and sat in front of a screen so they may take his picture. As if they had not already had him on film enough. He rolled his eyes. He knew he had given them all that they needed and then some. He looked around, briefly wondering where they had taken Sif. Apparently women’s wardrobe of the realm was a bit more intricate than just pulling a shirt on. He shook his head, and ran a hand through his hair. He was definitely not a fan of this short length. He had spent centuries perfecting his appearance and now to have it changed, without his permission, and definitely not how he wanted, that was just -

He stopped mid thought. Perhaps that was why Sif was always so hostile with him. Perhaps he truly did owe the warrior an apology.


End file.
